


One Sandwich Short of a Picnic

by Archer2016



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alternative Universe - Kingdom, Arranged Marriage, F/F, F/M, Forced Marriage, Idiots in Love, Kings & Queens, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:48:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28134963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archer2016/pseuds/Archer2016
Summary: Julian gets a letter telling him he's the heir to a royal kingdom and is needed urgently back home. Learning that he still has family he packs his things and takes his sister, lover, and friends to this kingdom where his honorary grandma and royal queen grandmother butt heads, he needs to learn how to become a good king for his people, and there is this lovely damsel who he apparently has to marry or the kingdom will fall into chaos. And while his true fiance is blowing a fuse, he's trying to find a way to actually reject the whole "becoming king" thing without causing a war.
Relationships: Apprentice/Julian Devorak, Asra/Muriel (The Arcana), Julian Devorak/Original Character(s), Julian Devorak/Original Male Character(s), Nadia (The Arcana)/Original Character(s), Nadia (The Arcana)/Original Male Character(s), Portia Devorak/Original Character(s), Portia Devorak/Original Female Character(s)





	One Sandwich Short of a Picnic

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So uh this idea was inspired by "The Prince and His Magician" by misunderstood_writings and I feel really bad but god after reading the book a whole river of ideas flooded my brain, and so here we are!
> 
> On a plus note,  
> I'm not too familiar with the correct He/They terms but I really want to write Asra as non-binary and after reading an article I found that to include them as an uncle/aunt the term can be auncle, is that right? If not please tell me and I will fix it immediately. Thank you ♡

Vesuvia was not a small place and the job of sending mail across the country was tasked to a trusted group.

One of the men in the group was Jerry. He was basically the head of the group, the best out of all of them, and usually spent his time overseeing the packages and giving out orders. He was a well known man, middle aged, married and with children. Very honest and very generous.

Jerry had a little office in the back of his work place where he signed of important paper works and the like. He was a hard worker and sometimes stayed late in the office, doing work under the flickering light of the candle on his desk.

The time was past midnight and he was at his desk once again with a quill in hand and a paper in front of him, when he heard a knock on his office door.

This confused Jerry because he had thought all of the workers had gone home by this time. He wondered who had stayed behind as he got up and went to open the door.

Opening the door revealed a figure clad in dark armour, larger than him in both size and bulk, with a sword at their hip and a satchel around their armour. The knight had a helmet on and so Jerry couldn't see their face. The armour did not look Vesuvian and the way the knight towered over him scared him enough to make him step back into his room a few spaces.

The knight walked in, apparently taking Jerry's backing away as him making room for them to enter. The light of the candle reflected off their shining metal armour as they turned once again to the man, who was so stricken with fear of them that his feet were frozen in place and was watching the knight with wide and panicking grey eyes.

A moment of silence passed between them as Jerry tried to find his voice and speak some words he wasn't even sure of.

"H-h-how may I help you, um-" his lips were quivering as he spoke. His back straightened as he tried to assume the mask of control, despite knowing with how his voice came out he failed.

The knight was quiet and, for a bit there, Jerry feared he'd gone and signed his death wish but then a low rumble came from them before they spoke in a rough voice that Jerry could clearly hear even beneath the heavy metal.

"It is not I who you may help, it is my queen who you will help." Their biting tone left no room for arguments, and in response Jerry gave a quick nod. Then they continued. "My queen has requested that I deliver this message to an Ilyushka Devorak urgently and that is exactly what I shall do but I am having some trouble finding where he lives. I need some assistance."

It took a few seconds for Jerry to process the words in his growing panic but when they filtered into his brain, with a start, he nodded once again.

"I uh, Ilyushka Devorak, certainly my good um," his brain short circulated and words seemed to evade him. He felt himself starting to sweat under a gaze he was certain was on him from behind that helmet. "Certainly, if it is her highness's wishes, I will help!" He said urgently and hoped it wouldn't trigger the knight to use the sword on their hip.

The knight gave a rough chuckle, seemingly amused with the little man before them, and then another moment of silence passed them with Jerry still panicking and unsure of what he was supposed to do.

"Well?" The knight sounded impatient.

Jerry jumped at their voice, suddenly louder than the silence they were engulfed in. He grabbed at his chest as he squeaked, "right now?"

"Yes right now. Did you not hear me when I said this was urgent?!"

"Forgive me! Forgive me! I'll-I'll get right on with finding you the adress!" The man stuttered nervously, almost tripping over himself as he rushed to the cabinets behind his desk to find the log book. The log book is where he's kept all the mail deliveries they've done over the years. Of course it was more than one book and they were all kept in the cabinets.

Finding the log book of the recent year, Jerry took it out of the cabinet and slammed it down on his desk. He sat in his chair and began flipping through the pages to find the wanted name while the knight loomed over his shoulder. His nerves raised and his eyes flitted quickly over the pages, hands shaking, until he finally found the name and address.

"Here!" The man pressed a thick finger right underneath the name and looked up at the knight as they leaned closer to take a good look at the writing.

Without another word, the knight stood up straight and marched out of the room, leaving a very scared and very confused Jerry behind.

\---

"The shop is closed tomorrow because tomorrow is a national holiday back in Kelanin, which is where half of me is from originally," the brunet grinned, "it is the forty-sixth anniversary of the day we were finally free of a country that had been ruling over us for over a hundred years!" He announced out loud to the only other person in the shop with him, Asra, who knew that the independence day of Kelanin is in fact next week but didn't dare tell their companion because of how happy he looked while telling then this.

"Is that really tomorrow?" Asra asked with faux surprise. Of course it was quite hard for them to really fake their surprise. Kelanin had been Zadith's neighbouring country so the true date of this national holiday was commonly known back in their home.

The brunet frowned, he may not be the best at reading body language between the two of them but he knew his best friend well enough to know when he was not being sincere.

With a groan Peter put his head in his hands. A dramatic reaction but after spending so long as three years being around Julian can you blame him? But also, despite having come to terms a long time ago that his missing memories were never going to come back, he did not like how little he knew about the countries he was originally from. The solution was picking up books about Grimden and Kelanin and learning their history and traditions, and even his family history and traditions... well, maybe not his family. From what Asra had told him, he did not want to open that book. Apparently he is not good with memorizing dates and historical events.

"I was going to close the shop for no reason at all, wasn't I?" His voice came muffled from behind the palms of his hands.

"Peter-" Asra began but they were cut off by said man suddenly jumping and waving his hands in front of him.

"No, no! It's fine, really, this is like some sort of puzzle. I like puzzles. I'll get this stuff memorized, right this time! And then, after gathering piece by piece I'll have the whole picture before me, and by picture I mean history." His face was beaming with positive energy he didn't feel on the inside, and from the look he was being given he could tell Asra wasn't convinced with his front.

With a dramatic sigh Peter leaned forward onto his elbows on the counter, his head dropped between his shoulders.

Asra carefully placed a hand on his arm and gave him a soft pat. "It's alright, Peter. These things take time-"

They were cut off once again as Peter scoffed. They held back an annoyed sigh as Peter spoke over them.

"As in three years of time?"

Asra gave him another look and that had him feeling embarrassed.

With Peter finally coming to his senses and shittint up, Asra began to speak.

"Maybe more. You're trying to learn two different histories and memorise two different traditions as well as their very different holiday times."

Peter stayed quiet. Despite the deep set sorrow he was feeling in his chest, he knew Asra was right. It still did not make him feel any better.

"I just... want to get this right. At least to know something, for a time maybe." He sighed.

Asra looked Peter over, knowing their best friend was in a state of distress quite well because Peter was usually very honest and especially in his body language.

"This isn't just about getting these dates wrong... isn't it?" Asra asked.

Peter's head lifted from where it had been tilted down to the glass counter. There was a prominent frown on his lips but his eyebrows were furrowed in thought.

Seeming to come to some sort of conclusion, he started fidgeting with the collar of the black shirt he was wearing, avoiding eye contact with Asra as he asked in a small voice.

"You know that Julian and I are engaged right?"

Asra smiled. "How could I not? You came to me the minute you let Julian go to tell me, and after you he came to me to tell me, and then when you were celebrating and got drunk you and him ran out of the tavern and told everyone you ran into. Nadia, Portia, Oliver, Eva, and I rushed to search for you and found that out when we asked about you, and then found you both somehow snuck on a merchant's ship and passed out in its hull."

"Yes, okay, I get it you know!" Peter was blushing in embarrassment. Even after both Julian and himself came to be sober and conscious neither could remember how that happened. And how the hell did they manage to get on when there was no rope or ladder? Peter knew himself pretty well to know that drunk he could perform no magic tricks.

"Proceed," Asra told him, grinning at the brunet like a smug cat.

"Anyways!" Peter's voice got unreasonably high on that note, blue-green eyes still avoiding the violet gaze he was under. "Um, it came up in a conversation a bit ago, about how we wouldn't really mind if when after we got married we adopted a kid or two-"

As violet eyes widened and white haired eyebrows raised to their hairline, Asra's mouth fell open and this time it was they who interrupted with an excited screech of "I'm going to be an auncle!" They slammed their hands on the glass counter as they stared at Peter, waiting for him to confirm this.

The taller of the two jerked backwards, completely withdrew from the counter and stared back at Asra with wide eyes of his own.

"Its uh, it's a big possibility-"

"Yes! I'm so happy. Oh my, I'm going to be the best auncle there ever has been. Your children are going to love me!" Asra went on, eyes shining as they spoke and clapped excitedly.

Peter couldn't help the twitch of his lips into a smile at their reaction.

"Okay, I get it, my children will love you more than they'll love me! But listen, I'm lamenting about my problems here!"

Asra calmed down immediately, still smiling and turned their attention back to their friend.

"Okay, I'm listening."

"Thank you," Peter said, feeling it a lot more than he led on. "He was happy and talking about all the fantastic things he'll get to do with them, much like you did, but also about taking them to Nevivon and showing them around his childhood home and town. Telling them about the traditions there, showing them the landmarks, and all of that. It got me thinking about my origins, again, and well, I'm ashamed to say but I got jealous. I want to know these things, the things about my country, or countries, and tell my kids all about it. Show them my favourite places there and teach them about my traditions and cultures, too."

And that was when Asra understood immediately.

"I mean, it's nice knowing where you came from, but I hope you know that raising children isn't just about impressing them with stuff like that," they chuckled, "besides, your roots may have come from different places but you have s home here. You know Vesuvia better than anyone. You've got your favourite spots here, you know its history well enough, you're written down as a hero in it as well-"

"So are you," Peter said but he was smiling.

"Yes but we're talking about you here," Asra reminded, "you've got all that cool knowledge right here. Although, if that's what you consider to be what you'll really impress your kids with, your making my job of being cooler than you much easier." Asra grinned at Peter who scoffed at him.

"Sure, and then I'll steal their attention from you all over again when I tell them how I was the one who bound the devil in his own realm."

Peter sent Asra a smug smile, looking very pleased with himself, and it caused the magician to fall into a fit of laughter that Peter followed into quite quickly.

Their laughter was interrupted by the sound of knocking. Both turned their attention towards the wooden door of the shop.

"Um, is that Julian?" Asra asked.

"No Julian has his own key. And besides, he's just left for the clinic not an hour ago. He's got no reason to come back, he can't have forgotten anything. He didn't bring any work home yesterday."

"What about his key?"

"Its not on the shelf, and I saw it in his hand this morning."

"Then are you expecting anyone?"

"No, but I mean this is a shop. Shouldn't I be expecting people?"

"Yes, but you still haven't opened have you?"

"I haven't. It's still early, I open on about an hour and a half."

Whoever stood behind the door knocked again, and this time impatiently, interrupting the ongoing series of questions and answers the two had started between themselves.

"So are you going to open the door?" Asra asked.

Peter looked towards Asra, and then reluctantly turned back to the door. With a nod he walked from behind the counter and yelled "coming!" As he approached the door.

Touching one hand to the door, as he usually did to magically unlock it, he grabbed the knob with the other and pulled the door wide open.

With the the door not in the way, Peter stood face to face with someone in a full body of armour.

All he could do was blink before the knight was commanding him to tell if this was the house of Ilyushka Devorak.

"Uh," he turned his head to look at Asra, eyes seeking help.

The magician shrugged his shoulders, unhelpful.

Peter turned back to the person clad in black metal. "Who's asking?" He squared his shoulders and crossed his arms over his chest, levelling a surely challenging gaze at the slit of the helmet where he was sure eyes were peeking at him from behind.

"I was sent here by my Queen to deliver an urgent message to an Ilyushka Devorak. I have spent many nights travelling and all of the last night trying to find his address so I may hand it to him. So tell me if this is his house or not." They sounded so angry their teeth seemed to have been grinding over every word.

Peter was taken aback by the words spoken to him and fumbled to form a response.

"Well if its urgent, yes, this is Ilyushka Devorak's address-"

"Ah, good."

The knight quickly reached for the satchel they were wearing around themself, somehow with the metal fingers, opened the satchel, and pulled out an envelope, they hadn't even crumpled an edge of it despite it being held in a metal gauntlet. Peter was impressed.

"You must be his housekeeper," they just stated. They didn't even let Peter correct them, just thrust the letter into his chest and waited for him to stop wincing and hold it before they released it. "Make sure he gets this as soon as possible. My queen is not one who knows patience."

Peter was still recovering from the harsh jab at his chest, it was throbbing even as he rubbed his palm over it to try and ease the pain, and so he did not get the chance to reply before the knight turned on their metal boot and marched away from him.

"Well that was rude of them," Asra said and Peter had to agree.

He closed the door and put the spell on it once again before turning to his friend.

"Oh? Is that a letter?" Asra inquired, peering curiously down at where the white envelope with silver threading around its rectangular frame was clutched in his hand.

Peter then gazed down at the envelope himself with equal curiosity. He flipped the letter over and saw an unfamiliar crest in the dried, red wax on the lip of the letter.

"Yeah," he said, lost in thought, "apparently my fiance is sought after by royalty."

Asra snorted. "Well, he did build himself quite a reputation here in Vesuvia. It might have spread to other countries. And the fact that princess Nazali themself have taught him almost everything he knows might make other royal members looking for his expertise."

Asra had a point, Peter knew, and he had full trust in his lover and his capabilities and skills but something about this seemed off. And it wasn't just the terribly stuffy strawberry scented perfume the letter was absolutely stinking of.

"How about we just leave it till Ilya comes back?"

"But they said it was urgent!" Peter reminded.

"Okay, so do you want to go over to the clinic and give it to him now?"

Peter was silent in thought.

"I think I should." He blurted more than spoke.

"Alright then, go do that."

Peter nodded his head and turned to open the door again.

"Don't forget your keys."

"Right!" Peter turned to go grab them off the shelf in the kitchen nearby.

"Or your jacket. It's cold out today."

"I won't, mom!"

Peter yelled back as he wrestled with his green jacket, shoving the key and letter in his pocket after finally putting it on.

"Watch the shop for me while I'm gone?" Peter asked as he opened the door once again.

"Of course," Asra replied and with that Peter was off to the clinic.

**Author's Note:**

> So I know my writing is less than mediocre, I'm not a professional, but writing is my hobby and I feel happy when I practice it. Feel free to criticise me, I'm always looking to better my writing.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed ♡


End file.
